


Almost Like a Rom-Com

by at_thezenith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Celebrity AU, F/M, Fake Dating, John is not an asshole, M/M, Multi, Slow Updates, Writer!Castiel, a/b dynamics, actor!dean - Freeform, bisexual dean winchester bc what other dean is there, dean is a dumbass who can't ask people out, hope you all are okay with it, mary winchester is a queen, sam and jess are happy and engaged, this is a birthday fic so it's going to be rambly fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9310439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/at_thezenith/pseuds/at_thezenith
Summary: "First Beta celebrity" is what Dean is going to be known as, and if he's honest, that's a lot of pressure. Doesn't help that he's Hollywood's "pretty boy" and now wanted by Alphas everywhere as a trophy husband.Well, apart from one Alpha with really nice eyes and in need of some time back in the limelight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is why i haven't been updating my other fic bc this ate my brain
> 
> also it's a birthday present to kat happy birthday how does it feel to be old
> 
> anyway enjoy this rambling pile of dorks trying to navigate fake-dating

He took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Immediately, hundreds of camera flashes went off, screaming filled his ears, and hordes of people descended on him.

“Mr Winchester –”

“One minute, please –”

“How does it feel –”

“First major Beta celebrity –”

“Up for an award –”

“ _Beta_ celebrity –”

Dean smiled thinly, and made his way through the crowd, to where the rest of the cast were waiting. He exchanged a look with his manager, Jody, who nodded and opened the door, letting him escape into the relative calm of the inside. “Jeez, like they’ve never seen a Beta before.”

Jody smiled. “No, they’ve never seen a Beta _celebrity_ before. Or at least, none with the same amount of impact you’ve had. People are dying to interview you.”

“Yeah, well, we all know how that’ll go. ‘How have you managed to get this far without an Alpha?’ ‘You’ll have the choice of any eligible Alpha after this!’ etcetera, etcetera.”

“Seems like anything anyone’s interested in is your relationship status. It’s only going to get worse after the movie’s out; you’re shirtless in it, and you haven’t got a mating bite.”

Dean groaned. “Aw, shit. Didn’t think of that.”

“Gonna have to start bringing plus-ones to these things, kiddo, or some rich ass is gonna try ad set you up with their kid, or worse, themselves.”

Dean pulled a face, and was about to reply when the doors swung open and the rest of the cast and crew who were important enough to get an invite poured in, along with other famous people who’d managed to snag a ticket. Some of them waved at Dean, but most walked towards the screen entrance without so much as a ‘hello’. It was alright, he supposed. They’d become used to the novelty of a Beta actor, and most of them treated him the same as they would anyone else.

“Beta!”

Aw, jeez.

Dean pinned a smile on his face and turned to face Michael, the leading actor in the film. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home?” he sneered, making Dean roll his eyes.

“In case you forgot, Michael, I was actually in the film. You know, as one of the main characters?”

Michael scoffed, and shoved past him. “Pity role,” he called back over his shoulder, “they just wanted to satisfy the Betas and Omegas, make them think they’ve got a chance. Stupid move, if you ask me.” He disappeared into the screen room without another word.

Jody sighed. “And you’ll have to deal with traditionalists. I forgot.”

“Hopefully they’ll be able to smell the _get the fuck away from me_ vibes.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go see your movie.” 

* * *

 

The film was good, and Dean had to appreciate the VFX guys, because to him what felt like a stupid and pointless fight scene looked exciting and gorgeous after they’d finished with it. Adding Bradbury to the team had really paid off, despite what Naomi had said at the beginning. She’d fought against his role, too, until Meg, the casting director, informed her that she had no power over who was picked anymore, and she should be grateful she got any gigs at all, after the _Takeover_ disaster.

In any case, the film was out now, Dean was in it, and it looked great. It was about a man (Michael) searching for his long-lost brother (Dean) only to find that he was head of the gang they had spent their whole lives fighting against. The two fight, and the brother ends up dying, but only after his heartfelt declaration that he never wanted this for them, blah blah blah. Repetitive sappy bull as per usual, but hey, it was work. Very well paid work, plus it gave him an excuse to shape up again, and looking at some people’s faces in the audience, it was worth it.

There was an afterparty in some club across town, but Dean declined to go, hanging back in the cinema and pretending to check his phone. A few minutes after he got out, Sam ran up, excitement written all over his face. “Dean!”

Dean cracked a smile at the sight of his stupidly tall, puppy-like brother. “Hey, Sammy. You like the movie?”

“Well, yeah! Your acting was pretty good, even though the plot kinda sucked. Sorry,” he added, “I know you worked hard on this.”

“S’fine, Sammy,” Dean shrugged. “I agree. Plot was a little dumb, but whatever, I got to get my abs out for everyone, right?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Jess had her eyes firmly on the screen for those parts. Although she might have been wondering why you were wearing Versace in a bar fight.”

“I was a gang leader, Samuel. You expect me to be slumming it in J-Crew?”

“Whatever. Me and Jess’re gonna head back home, you want a ride?”

“Nah, I got a limo. Yeah, that’s right,” he said, as Sam’s eyes widened, “who’s the fancy one now, Mr Big Lawyer?”

“Screw you.”

“I’ve got the pick of the Alphas, little brother, I don’t think I’ll have trouble finding someone who’s willing.”

Sam flipped him off and walked away, towards the side exit. Dean grinned at his back, before making his way towards the front entrance. Jody had said to milk his new status as much as he could, to hopefully pave the way for new Betas to rise to fame, and maybe one day, Omegas too.

The press sure seemed to be excited, since most of them were still there when Dean got out. He smiled and waved and walked towards his car, when suddenly a small brunette launched herself in front of him.

“Hi, Dean, I’m Ruby, from OK! Magazine. I’d really appreciate it if you could answer a few questions for me.”

On the one hand, she looked sneaky and not at all trustworthy. On the other: good press. Dean put on his most winning smile and nodded. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

“Great!” She pulled out a camera. “So, first question; how did you come across this role?”

“Uh, through Jody, my manager. She fought pretty hard for me to get the role.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked restless, and Dean knew it was only a matter of time before the dating question popped up. “So, uh, how did you find working with a nearly all-Alpha cast and crew?”

Dean shrugged. “They’re all decent people; I hope I get to work with some of them in the future.”

“But not all of them?” Ruby asked, eyes gleaming.

“Well, there’re people who share the same vision for your future as you do, and some who don’t. S’just the way life is.”

Ruby sighed a little, looking disappointed. _Well sorry, sunshine,_ Dean thought, _can’t provide all the dirt for your trashy rag._ “And, well, you worked with a pretty attractive cast. Anyone you, uh, have your eye on?” _Ding ding ding_.

“No, there isn’t.”

“Well, I’m sure after this, they’ll all be _dying_ to get their hands on you.”

Dean laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, maybe. Sorry, I’ve got to go.” He pushed past Ruby, ignoring hers and other’s clamours for his attention. The limo was there waiting at the curb, and he got in, grateful for the quiet that surrounded him as soon as he shut the door. He tapped the divider, and the driver took off, leaving the cinema and the hounding press behind. Sighing with relief, Dean loosened his tie and slumped down in his seat, pulling a soda out from the small built-in cooler. The premiere had been fun, and he was sure the afterparty would have been a great opportunity to mingle and network, but Jody was there to represent him, and he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was change into sweatpants, crash on the sofa, and watch shit TV for the next week. Unfortunately, there were press conferences to do, more parties to attend, and Thanksgiving was coming up, so that meant travelling up to Kansas to deal with his parents asking about relationships. Apparently working on his lifelong dream wasn’t a reasonable excuse for never having a date.

Soon enough, they pulled up at the hotel, and Dean straightened his tie, because there were definitely paparazzi outside, and he’d be damned if any of them snapped a picture of him looking less than his best. It wasn’t just his professional future on the line; if any Betas wanted a future in acting, they needed a role model that was 100% squeaky clean. Even if so-called ‘role model’ happened to enjoy shit medical dramas and didn’t have a mate.

Just as he thought, paparazzi were waiting, and he disregarded them as he stepped into the hotel, where he knew security would keep them out. The ride up to the nineteenth floor seemed to take forever, and as soon as he got through the door, he pulled off his tie and shoes, grabbed a pair of sweatpants and changed, before crashing on the couch and passing out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this will probably take me about a week to finish, since i have about 5 chapters already written, so i'll be updating everyday
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> enjoy the first meeting :)

_Brrrr. Brrrr._

“Gughh.” Dean reached out to smack his alarm clock, when he realised that he wasn’t in his bed, and he overbalanced onto the floor. “Son of a –”

He staggered upright, finding his phone and turning off the alarm. It wasn’t that early – ten thirty to be exact – and after the chaos of last night, Dean was dreading the coming day. There wasn’t even anything strenuous happening; all he had to do was take a taxi to Jody’s so she could report on last night, but still.

He got changed into something presentable, fixed his hair, made sure he didn’t look like a member of the walking dead, and went down to the lobby, telling himself that taking the staircase would wake him up a little. Nineteen floors later, he was exhausted and cursing himself, but awake. Sitting in the lobby were a group of Alphas, a couple of whom he vaguely recognised – Lisa Braeden, model; Lilith, director and – for fuck’s sake – Michael. He tried to sneak past them, but, as luck would have it, Lisa looked up and called out to him. “Hey, Dean!”

Fuuuuck. Dean turned, forcing a smile. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Lisa, it was just that every time he saw her, she brought up his relationship status with a bat of her damn eyelashes, and Dean wasn’t quite sure how to break it to her that he wasn’t interested. “Hey, Lisa. What brings you here?”

She got up and walked over to him, Hollywood teeth blinding him. “Nothing much, just meeting with a couple of friends. You want to join?”

“Oh, no, I was actually –”

“Aw, come on, Dean, they’re all dying to meet you!” She grabbed him by the arm and hauled him over. He ended up sitting between her and some short guy he vaguely recognised, with a mischievous grin and sideburns that _almost_ rivalled Sam’s. “Guys, this is Dean Winchester.” They all nodded to him except for Michael, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Lisa, I think since the film was announced, and the actors’, uh, _backgrounds_ were announced, everyone knows who he is.”

“I didn’t,” said the short guy, “but then again, you were in the film, Micky, and I tend to avoid paying attention to whatever you’re in.”

“Shut up, Gabriel.”

“What? All your films are the same; strong, wooden male, goes looking for something he shouldn’t, meets a long-lost friend or relative, fights someone, loses his shirt, kisses a girl and walks into the sunset. Tell me I didn’t just describe all your movies right there.”

Michael opened his mouth, then shut it, glaring at Gabriel. Dean hid a smile at his triumphant look. “A-ha! I win.”

“You forgot _Letters_ – no, wait, long-lost wife, never mind,” said a guy to Michael’s right. He had ruffled dark hair, and really, _really_ nice blue eyes. He was sprawled out on the seat, watching Dean. “I’m Castiel Novak; I can tell you don’t recognise me. Good job in the movie, by the way.”

“Oh – yeah, thanks.” Dean nodded, and Castiel grinned, shifting his gaze to Michael.

“Thought of any exceptions yet?”

“Shut it, Castiel, I’m trying to think. It isn’t helped by the smell, either.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes a little, glancing at Dean. “Smell?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, staring hard at Dean, “smells like low-life.”

Lisa clenched her jaw, moving closer to Dean. “Michael –”

“I'm gonna go,” Dean said abruptly. He shot up, deliberately looking away from Michael’s sneering face. “I have a meeting with my manager, and…”

“Oh, Jody Mills, right?” Lisa asked. “I’ve heard of her – she doesn’t take any shit from anyone, does she?”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, ‘specially not from me. Well, see you.”

Most of the group waved, except Michael, obviously, and Castiel, who just stared at Dean as he walked out. Dean hailed a taxi and put his earphones in, trying to forget the whole conversation. Jody had said he’d have to deal with traditionalists, and Michael was just another asshole he’d have to deal with. And Castiel. He didn’t know why, but it still felt like that guy’s gaze was stuck to his back. Dean even looked out the back window to check, then internally slapped himself. _Don’t be dumb. The guy can’t run that fast._

He was late to the meeting, and Jody did not look impressed as he came through into her office. “You know Dean, when I say eleven o’clock, I do _mean_ eleven o’clock.”

“Sorry, Jody. I got dragged into talking to a couple of people, and I couldn’t get away.”

“Mm.” She raised an eyebrow, and he sank into a chair. “Well, you’re here now. I’ve had several interesting offers from different people, and seems like Meg has been singing your praises.”

“Meg?”

“Yeah, she seemed really impressed with you. Anyway, big directors are interested in you now, Dean. Like _Cain_ big.”

“Whoa, really?”

“Yeah. He went on for fifteen minutes about this new artistic ‘vision’ he has,” she said, using air quotes. “And Crowley’s interested too, but I really wouldn’t recommend you working with that slimy bastard any time soon.”

“Hell no. The Cain thing sounds promising though.”

“It is. I reckon after all this press stuff is done, you should go for it. Speaking of,” she added, “you have a press conference later. They’re sending a car to your hotel, so be ready by five.”

“Ughhh.”

Jody shrugged unsympathetically. “Life of a celebrity, I’m afraid.”

“I'm a theatre boy outta Kansas, Jody. My idea of busy is seeing family once a week, or going to the movies with a couple’a friends.”

“Aww, does little theatre boy need a hug?”

“No, fuck off.” Jody gave him a look, and he sighed. “Just – is this how it’s going to be now? Things at all hours of the day? People watching my every move?”

“It’s gonna get worse, kiddo. Only major Beta actor, and all that.”

“Yeah.” Dean rubbed his forehead. “Was that it?”

“I think so. I’ll ring you if I get any more offers.”

“Thanks, Jody.”

They talked for a bit after that; about work, about Thanksgiving (which Dean _still_ needed to sort out, goddamnit) and Jody’s unsuccessful dating life; one guy had even tried to poison her, and would have done if Dean hadn’t happened to be in the same bar. She’d even been on a couple of dates with Crowley, which might be why he was still offering Dean roles after several firm ‘no’s.

She had a lunch date later, so Dean said his goodbyes and went back down to the street, wondering how he’d spend the rest of the day when he walked straight into someone. “Ah, shit.”

“Sorry,” the guy said stepping back. Dark hair, nice eyes. Castiel. “Oh, hello Dean.”

“Hey, man. Sorry, wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Castiel smiled, eyes crinkling. “It’s fine. I was hoping to run into you anyway. Michael was out of order back there; I just wanted to apologise.”

Dean shrugged. “S’okay. I was kinda expecting it from Michael.”

“Doesn’t make it okay. Hey, let me take you to lunch. My treat.”

“Look, man, just ‘cause you feel bad ain’t a reason to treat me like a charity case, okay?”

Castiel held up his hands. “I wasn’t trying – I just thought I’d be nice to you, since you’re from out of town.”

One the one hand, brother of a dickhead Alpha. On the other, free food. “Fine.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so chapter 3 of however many there are is up
> 
> sticking to my schedule well done h i'm proud
> 
> this chapter: the (not)DATE

They walked for about fifteen minutes, going from loud streets with hotels and offices to a quieter part, with more restaurants and smaller bars. Castiel ducked into a side street and went into a small bar, a neon sign declaring it the Purgatory Bar. “You come here often?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda – oh, hey Benny.”

A man in shirtsleeves came towards them, smile on his face. “Well, hey, Castiel. Brought a – Dean?”

“Benny fucking Lafitte.” Louisiana born, Benny had come to live in Kansas for a bit when Dean was in his late teens, and they’d become close. Then he met some girl named Andrea and moved out to LA, a couple of years before Dean left himself. Benny held out his arms and Dean hugged him, slapping his back. “Damn, have I missed you.”

“You and me both. Been waiting for you to turn up ever since I heard about your movie. Guess you’ve been getting the ‘do it for the Betas’ speech a lot, huh?” Benny himself was an Alpha, and his family had looked down on him for running off with Andrea, who was a Beta, but if Dean was honest, he’d never seen someone as prone to giving the finger to stereotypes as Benny. Well, apart from the whole accent thing. When Dean had first met him, he’d barely been able to make out what Benny was saying sometimes, his accent was so thick.

“Too damn much.”

“Well, c’mon. I’ll get you guys a table, and you can spill all about the tragedies of celeb life, alrigh’?”

They followed him to a table near the back, away from the bustle of the main bar. Benny left them with a menu, telling them to give him a shout when they were ready. Castiel glanced at the menu then shut it, tapping the table. “Do you know what you’re going to order?”

“You’ve already decided?”

“Yeah, I come here a lot. First time I’ve seen Benny like that though. You must have been close.”

“Mm. We were.” Dean skimmed the menu, and something caught his eye, making him grin. “Benny, you bastard.”

In a small corner of the menu, there was a section labelled ‘Old Friends’. In it were recipes Dean could remember eating with Benny, as well as others he knew Benny’s friends from back home liked too; pies, roasts, ‘good ol’ home cooking’, as he’d say. “Yeah, I know what I’m getting.”

They waved over Benny, and Cas ordered his burger. Benny turned to Dean. “And you?”

“The Elvis, please, my good man.”

Benny grinned. “So, you found your section?”

“That I did, and I’m offended you didn’t put our experiments from back home in it.”

“Somehow I think putting sweet potatoes and pecan in the same pie _might_ not go down well with my customers.”

“Aw, come on, we only poisoned each other _once._ ”

“Don’t you remember the rum experiment?”

Dean winced at the memory. “Drinking it was fun. Morning after, not so much.”

Benny chuckled, shutting his notebook. “A’igh, then, fellas, see you in a bit.” He saluted Dean, and walked off.

Dean grinned at his back. Castiel turned to look at him. “Well, glad to see you two reacquainted. How long has it been since you saw him?”

Dean counted on his fingers. “’Bout, seven, no, five years now. He ran off with his fiancée to LA; dreamed of opening up a five-star restaurant. Way I see it, this is much better.”

“Yeah, me too.” Castiel leaned back, staring at him. “So, tell me, how does a theatre boy from Kansas make it to LA, whilst being a Beta _and_ the son of a mechanic?”

“Okay, stalker alert.”

He scoffed. “Hardly. Every magazine in the country has run a story about you. Practically printed your birth certificate.”

“Great.” Jody had warned him about this; his story was going to be big news everywhere. He’d already experienced it at the premiere, but he was hoping it would die down soon. “So what about you? How’d you end up here?”

Castiel shrugged. “Grew up in LA; Dad was an actor, aunt was an actor, etcetera etcetera. Gabe, my brother you met earlier, he and I are the only ones who aren’t. Well, he’s still a performer, but…”

“He’s the comedian, right?”

“Yes. Quite good at what he does, too. Calls himself the Trickster.”

“I think Sam went to one of his shows with his girlfriend once. Came back in stitches. You should be proud.”

He smiled thinly. “Yes, my brothers are the favourites in my family.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they’re successful, good at what they do, always in the limelight, and I preferred to stay behind the scenes, much to the disappointment of my father.”

“Really? But, I mean, you’re still in showbiz, right?”

“Yes,” he said bitterly, “but not famous enough for my father. I work in writing, so I don’t have paparazzi on my back all the time. Suits me, but it does mean I don’t get all the perks the actors do.”

“Pity. My dad was more than happy for me to take up acting; he and Mom actually paid my tuition for drama school. Their only request was I pay for their retirement.”

“What about your brother?”

“Now that’s a different story. Sam’s a scholarship boy; got a full ride into Stanford and everything. Met Jessica, his girlfriend, joined a major firm, and now he’s living the high life.”

“I suppose it’s a – safer career, rather than joining the film industry.”

“Well, for me, maybe. But people are always looking for writers, so you’ll always have a job.”

Castiel snorted. “People want new ideas, new perspectives. At least with actors, you can change roles. Writers… their ideas dry out.” He looked sad, almost, and Dean felt the urge to do… something.

At that moment, Benny and a brunette woman arrived with their food. The woman’s face lit up at the sight of them. “Dean! How long’s it been? Why didn’t you tell us you were in town?”

“Andrea, hey. Didn’t realise you worked here too.”

Benny laughed. “Oh, she don’t work here. This lady right here works with The Maker and Co. now.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “The producing company? Congrats, Andrea, that’s awesome.”

She smiled, patting Benny on the shoulder. “Yeah, but I help out here from time to time. Make sure this guy isn’t in over his head.”

“When have I ever been in over my head?”

Dean and Andrea shared a look, before bursting out laughing.

“Hey!”

Andrea grinned, ruffling his hair. “Sorry, dearest, I promise we’re not making fun of you. We’ll leave you guys to it,” she added to Dean and Castiel, “wouldn’t want to ruin your date.”

Castiel choked on his burger, and Dean’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “We’re not –”

“It’s just –”

Andrea waved them off, smiling. “I'm just kidding. See you around, yeah?”

Dean shook his head. “Yeah, okay.”

They walked off, and Dean slumped back in his seat, avoiding looking at Castiel. He picked up his burger, and remembered how good Benny’s cooking was as he bit into it. The Elvis was practically heart disease on a plate, but man, was it worth it.

“Are you okay there?” Castiel asked amusedly. “You seem to be having an intimate moment with that burger.”

“This is the Elvis, man. The best thing ever created. Here, try it.” He held out the sandwich, expecting Castiel to take it. Instead, he leaned forward and took a bite, closing his eyes and groaning.

“Whoa, uh, you want me to leave you alone for a bit?” Hell, _Dean_ needed to be left alone for a bit. Castiel could have warned him before he did _that_.

“I take back any criticism. That is Heaven on a plate.”

The rest of the meal was less awkward; they found things to talk about that weren’t about LA, and Dean insisted they share a massive bit of one of Benny’s pies. What had started as a slightly uncomfortable lunch had finished as a pretty good one, and plus, it was free. Dean had half-heartedly suggested they split it, to which Castiel had scoffed and reiterated that it was _his treat Dean, so he would pay for it._ Whatever; it wasn’t like Dean protested against free food.

They were waved out by Benny and Andrea, with Benny’s new number in Dean’s pocket, and he was under strict instructions by Andrea to call at least once a week. Castiel insisted on walking him back to the hotel, claiming that he knew the city best. Honestly, Dean wasn’t complaining; Castiel seemed like a pretty nice guy, and hell, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t easy on the eyes.

“So,” Castiel said as they stopped outside the hotel, “do you want to do this again sometime? There’s a few more restaurants I can show you.”

 _Not a date._ “Sure thing. Maybe it’ll give me an idea of where to take my future Alpha dates.” _Stupid!_

His smile fell a little, and he shrugged. “Trust me, with your looks and your new-found fame, I highly doubt any Alpha is going to mind where you take them.” _Did he call me cute?_

“Still, I’d like to see ‘em.” _Yeah, so I can see you._ “Hey, uh, why don’t I give you my number? It’ll save us from only being able to talk when you're in my hotel lobby.” _Please say yes._

“Sure.” Cas gave him the phone and Dean typed his number in, adding a smirk emoji after it because he was just that classy.

“So, I’ll, uh, see you around?” _Hopefully soon._

“Yeah,” Castiel grinned. “See you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the comments and kudos they're all lovely :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello how is everyone 
> 
> four chapters and going strong yes bois
> 
> this chapter: dean is in some shit

For thirty minutes, everything was calm. Dean started packing, he put on some music, and even put a pie in the microwave for later.

Then, his phone blew up.

The first call was from Sam, who greeted him with kind words, as always: “What the fuck is this, Dean?”

“Huh?” Was his eloquent answer.

“You! You and Cas, man, it’s all over the damn tabloids!”

“Me and – what?”

Sam sighed, frustration clear even over the phone. “Just – look at your phone. Check OK!, those guys have the most on you.”

“That – sounds familiar… ah, Christ.” Ruby, the small slimy one from the premiere, she worked for them, didn’t she? He pulled up the website and groaned.

_Alpha’s new trophy boy – Novak and Winchester spotted on romantic lunch date!_

He almost didn’t want to look at the full article, but Sam heard his sigh and matched it. “The headline is the best part.”

Dean collapsed on his bed. “How bad?”

“Judging by your mentions on Twitter, very bad.”

He shut his eyes and clicked, because by Winchester logic, if he couldn’t see it, it wouldn’t be as bad. But he had to open his eyes at some point.

“ _America’s hottest Beta was spotted at a small bar/restaurant with Hollywood heir, Castiel Novak. Novak hasn’t been seen in the public eye recently, unlike his super-Alpha brother, Michael, who starred opposite Winchester in their new movie,_ Brother Mine _. Maybe this is where this romance sparked? They sure do look like a cute couple, and_ OK! _even managed to get a snap of Dean feeding Novak some of his food. Talk about adorable! Well, even if Dean is a favourite for all Alphas everywhere, we’re certain there’ll be a mating bite on him before too long._

Below were slightly blurry pictures taken from outside Purgatory, of Dean and Castiel’s booth. Even though it was a pretty private area of the bar, the person had still managed to get a couple of good shots, including – ah fuck – the one mentioned in the article, where Castiel had taken a bite out of Dean’s burger.

Sam had gone silent at the other end, but at Dean’s cursing he spoke again. “See?”

“What am I gonna do, Sammy?”

“Ignore it?”

“This is LA, Sam. People will be watching mine and Castiel’s every move from now on. I can kiss any privacy behind. And what’s Jody gonna say? She _told_ me to keep my nose clean and look what happened.”

“Well, hold on, this could be a good thing.”

“How, Samuel? How exactly is this good?”

Sam shuffled around a bit, and Dean could tell he wasn’t going to like whatever he was going to say next. “Well – if you pretended to date Castiel – even for a little bit – it could generate good press; make you seem like a nice guy with a nice boyfriend. Hell, Dean, he’s an heir –”

“No, Sam. Absolutely not. There’s no way I’ll be able to convince Castiel to do it, even if I wanted to, which I _don’t_ –”

“Are you sure? Because even if this was platonic, you looked a lot like you used to with –”

“Stop.”

“But –”

“Drop it, Sam, okay? Anyway, I'm getting another call, so –”

“Wait – Dean –”

He hung up, and switched to Jody, which wasn’t much better. “H–”

“Winchester, you are in some deep shit.”

“Yeah, I –”

“God knows what Castiel is going to say, and these pictures _don’t_ exactly help you, either.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, you're right. I mean, Sam already said it could be good press, but if I'm honest it’s a –”

“That’s an idea.”

“Wait, what?”

“These pictures – if we presented it as a new, slow relationship, it would get the Alphas off your back, and Castiel some much-needed limelight.”

“Are you saying this as a manager, or as you?”

Jody didn’t answer, and Dean rubbed his temples. Good press. He could do this. Just pretend for a while, get the paparazzi off his back, and hey, it would be good for Castiel too.

“Look, just – let me talk to Castiel, see how he feels about it. If he agrees, _maybe_ I’ll consider doing it.”

“For the record, I don’t like it. But it’s for –”

“The greater good, the Betas, yeah I know, Jody. Thanks,” he added, “for being my manager, and all. Feel like I haven’t said that enough.”

“You're welcome, kid. Do you have Castiel’s number?”

“No, but I gave him mine, so we just have to wait until he contacts me. Wait, what if he doesn’t? What if he thinks it’s creepy? Or gross? What if he hates me now?”

“Dean!” Jody sounded annoyed. “Look, from what I’ve heard of Castiel, he’s alright. Little reserved, but a decent guy. Come on, how bad could it get?”

“Fine.”

“Great. Now I’m getting a call from _Heat_ , so I’ll catch you later.”

“Bye.”

After he hung up, he found he had sixteen missed calls, about a hundred messages, and all his social media was going berserk. He cleared the notifications, switched his phone to mute, and threw it on his bed.

“Ugh.”

He couldn’t blame Castiel for this; the guy had only wanted to be nice, and show him around a little. Plus, it had resulted in him meeting Benny again, so as far as Dean was concerned, he could count him as a tentative friend. What he thought of Dean, though, he had no idea.

As if to answer, his phone lit up. Expecting it to be a text from Jody, he took a quick glance, and choked on air.

_So, I suppose we’re dating now ;)_

He threw the phone across the room. Not hearing a smash, Dean peeked over the edge of his bed. There it was, in all its winky-face glory.

_So, I suppose we’re dating now ;)_

“Ah, shit.”

Should he text back? It seemed like the right thing to do, but then again, he didn’t want to seem _too_ eager. Like, he wanted to be seen as calm and cool about the whole thing, but like not _disinterested_.

And then he realised he was muttering to himself, and made up his mind.

_Ha, yeah, sorry about all this_

_Welcome to Hollywood. Don’t worry, it’s mostly harmless_

_Yeah I was meaning to ask you about it_

_???_

_Hang on_

He took a deep breath and clicked the call button. As expected, Castiel picked up on the first ring. “Dean, why are you calling me?”

Dean screwed up his face and just let the words out. “Couldyoupleasehelpmegetthepressoffmybackbybeingmydateforawhile.”

“Uh… can you say that again? I didn’t catch any of it.”

“Could you – pretend to be dating me? For a bit; just to help with press and stuff. I mean, it’s fine if you don’t, it was actually my dumbass brother’s idea anyway, and I mean, it’s unwanted attention for you, so –”

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

He could hear the smile in his voice. “I’d be happy to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your comments you all are great and i love you


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helllooooo look i'm sticking to an update schedule for once omg
> 
> this is becoming one of my favourite fics to write honestly
> 
> anyway
> 
> this chapter: the press conference AND dean meets a cute short dark haired guy can u guess who

“Really?”

“Yeah. Hey, it would be beneficial for both of us; you can get the paparazzi off your back, and I can get my father off mine.”

“Huh.” Now that Castiel had said it, the prospect didn’t sound as scary anymore. “Well, I’ll tell my manager and we can meet tomorrow? Just, I’ve got a press thing later.”

“Yes, of course. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” He hung up, and put his phone back on the nightstand. Okay. It was simple, really; pretend for a little bit, then stage an amicable breakup. He just had to call Jody and prep for the press conference.

Jody handled things with her usual professionalism, promising to contact Castiel at her earliest opportunity. She told Dean to focus on the press tour; it was important that they maintained his image, and plus it wouldn’t look good if he was distracted on stage. Solid advice, and Dean adhered by it. He put on a fresh set of clothes, microwaved his pie, ate it at double time, fixed his hair, and checked his reflection. No food in teeth, check. No stains on his face, check. No obvious purple bags, check. The makeup team would fix all that, but he figured it was nice to make their jobs easier. He headed out of the door at 4 pm, feeling better. It was all going to be fine.

* * *

It was not going to be fine.

Apparently, everyone and their mother was going to the same convention centre as Dean, because they’d been sat in the same position for thirty minutes, and if the traffic didn’t move soon, he was going to have to do something drastic.

The driver was sympathetic, offering regular updates on the traffic via the radio, and offering Dean some snacks from his own stash, which Dean refused. He was too jumpy; adding junk food to the mix would be a recipe for disaster. Sitting still wasn’t easy either; his leg kept jiggling, and he was constantly checking out of the window for a sign that the gridlock would move soon.

Jody called him again for an update. “Anything?”

“No!” he said exasperatedly. “Same as the last time you called, Jody, and the time before that.”

“Alright, Dean Winchester, calm down _now_.” She had her ‘mom-voice’ on, and Dean shrank into his seat.

“Sorry,” he said meekly.

“Just as well, young man.” Oh no, he was in the shit now. “Now, has the traffic moved at all? Even the smallest bit?”

“No. Been stuck on Maple for ages.”

“Well, I might have some bad news. They’ve moved the time.”

“What? To when?”

Jody hesitated. “Fifteen minutes from now.”

“WHAT?” Oh god oh god oh god oh god. “I can’t make that, Jody, I'm literally stuck here.”

“Please tell me you didn’t put too much effort into your appearance today.”

“No…”

“Time to put those legs of yours to good use, Winchester.”

“Jody, how can I make that? It’s –” He checked his phone. “– twenty minutes away, and the convention starts in fifteen.”

“If you walk.”

“What happened to ‘maintaining my image’? Last time I checked, my ‘image’ wasn’t a red-faced, pit-stained mess.”

“The makeup team can sort it. Now get your ass over here; you’ve got thirteen minutes and counting.”

Dean fished in his pockets for his wallet, threw a twenty at the driver, and jumped out, ignoring the stares of the other drivers. Sprinting down the pavements, he checked his watch. Twelve minutes.

He passed a gym, refusing to note the irony. Ten minutes.

Passed two hospitals. Eight minutes.

Turned onto Figueroa Street. Five minutes.

He dashed into the centre, panting. A startled receptionist told him where to go, and he hurried down the maze of corridors until he reached the backstage door. Without bothering to knock, he burst in to see Jody, Michael, Meg and Bela sat inside, looking impatient. At least, Michael and Bela looked impatient. Jody and Meg just looked worried, but their faces brightened when they saw him.

“Ken, you made it!” Meg smirked when he winced at the nickname.

“Please, Meg, don’t call me that during the conference.”

“It’s endearing.”

“It’s annoying. Jody, tell her it’s annoying.”

Jody just shook her head amusedly. “It is endearing, Dean, calm down.”

He huffed, and turned back to Meg. “So when are we on?”

Meg checked her watch. “Two minutes. Go get your face fixed; you look like a hobo.”

“Thanks, Meg. Really.” Nevertheless, he sat himself down in front of a mirror, and the guy immediately got to work. He was cute, Dean thought, short, with brown hair and nice eyes. Not as nice as Castiel’s, but –

Wait, what?

“You alright?” Cute Makeup Artist said. Dean caught sight of himself in the mirror, looking like a deer in headlights.

He shook his head, and gave him a smile. “Nah, ‘s all good. Just admiring your handiwork.”

The guy raised an eyebrow. “Thought you were with that Novak guy?”

Dean spluttered a little. “Uh – yeah, yeah. Just being – I dunno. Sorry.”

He smiled, face clearing. “Just messing with ya. I overheard Jody talking with Meg, so don’t worry. Name’s Aaron, by the way. Once this dating thing is over, we can grab a drink, yeah?”

Dean was a little surprised, but flattered. Aaron was cute, and hey, he kinda had a thing for shorter guys with ruffled hair. A bit like –

“Dean! We’re going on now!” Meg called, ushering him out. He threw a wink at Aaron, who blushed a little, before heading out on stage to thunderous applause. Seemed like _Brother Mine_ had been a hit, judging by the lack of empty seats. He recognised a couple of reporters at the front from the premiere, including – ugh – Ruby, sat right at the front with that slimy little smirk of hers. She waved her dumb little fingers at him and he turned away, sinking down onto the chair marked with his name. A supporting actor sat next to him and smiled, whispering “Feels scarier when you're actually here, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess. Wasn’t expecting this many people.”

The guy shrugged. “The draw of the Beta, I guess.”

Naomi announced the conference in session, and that was it. Constant streams of questions came at Dean, giving him no time to breathe or take a drink of water. Most of them were professional; questions that were out to the other actors as well, until Naomi pointed at a man with yellow glasses on and it all went downhill.

“What’s your relationship with Castiel Novak?”

The room erupted; people clamouring for the answer, and Dean didn’t have one. He glanced offstage at Jody, who shrugged and mouthed _Improvise._

So he did what he did best. He put on a soft smile and said “We’re taking it slow. He’s a decent guy, and I can see us going out in the future.” A quick glance back to Jody showed her approval, and Yellow Eyes seemed to be satisfied as well, sitting back in his chair and scribbling down notes.

Then a smooth, smarmy voice piped up. “And is it real love? I’m sure he, ahem, _takes care_ of you in private.” Ruby was a fucking bitch and Dean resolved to get her kicked out of any press conference he was doing from there on out.

“It’s a bit difficult to tell at this point,” Dean said, still smiling through gritted teeth, “but who knows? Might be, might not be.”

Ruby’s mouth twisted. She knew Dean was avoiding her real questions but there was nothing she could do, Naomi had moved on. She and Dean were locked in a staring contest until another person asked Dean about his future in acting. Jesus, they acted as if one role in a movie was all he was going to get. He definitely couldn’t talk about future jobs (Cain would have his head) but he talked vaguely about big projects in the future, which seemed to please the reporters.

He actually began to enjoy himself a little, and was a little disappointed when it was over, but more than happy to get out of Ruby’s beady little gaze. He said as much to Jody, who just shrugged.

“She’s just one of many, kid. You just have to deal with it, I'm afraid.”

Dean was about to retort that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, when his phone buzzed. Pulling it out, he was surprised to see two texts from Castiel.

_Phoned your manager today; can we meet tomorrow to discuss what we are going to do?_

_Maybe over lunch? ;)_

He smiled without realising, typing out a message before Jody cleared her throat. “Special someone?”

“Just Castiel. He wanted to know how we’re gonna do this.”

“Judging by your smile, that’s not the only thing he said.” Dean narrowed his eyes and she rolled hers. “Dean, I have a daughter. When Alex gets a text from her girlfriend, she looks exactly like you do right now. Ah,” she said, when Dean opened his mouth to protest, “I'm not saying it’s the same thing; all I'm saying is be careful about how you present it to everyone else. Michael doesn’t know about this yet.”

“Castiel hasn’t told him?”

“No. And I imagine he’ll want to keep it that way. Michael really doesn’t like you, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“So we’re going public to the whole world, just not his brother.”

“Yeah, until he finds out.”

“Well, this should be fun.”

They parted ways then, and Dean caught one last wink from Aaron as he made his way outside and hailed a taxi. He still had a few press things to do but with his date the next day with Castiel, he didn’t feel that bad about it.

After all, Castiel was cute and pretending to be his boyfriend for a while certainly wasn’t hurting anyone, was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed it !
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooo it's a little later but it's up
> 
> you nerukimi in the comments shout out to you bc you actually fueled my idea for this chapter so thank you you go friend
> 
> this chapter: first appearance of our boys being a couple and we get actual confirmation™ that cas is an alpha

“So,” Castiel said, pushing the piece of paper back towards Dean, “we pretend to be dating for a period of nine months. During that time, neither me nor you will be allowed to pursue a romantic relationship with anyone else. We will go to events together if required, and may be needed to take part in PDA. Neither of us will be allowed to reveal that we are not actually dating, obviously. Sounds good to me. Do we have to sign?”

“No,” Dean snickered, “this is just a rule thing Jody drew up. You know, so we’re both clear on what we’re doing. So you’re in?”

“Of course.”

“Great.” Dean nodded. He couldn’t think of anything to say, not whilst Cas was staring at him with _those eyes_. He gave up on trying to find something clever to say and just went with his gut. “Wanna play Twenty Questions?” He cringed internally; he sounded like a fifteen-year-old with a crush for god’s sake.

Castiel squinted at him. “Alright… You go first.”

Shit. Now he had to think of a clever question. “Uhh… okay. What’s your favourite colour?”

“Really?” Castiel smirked. “Light green. What about you?”

“Blue. Your turn.”

Castiel tapped his chin, still watching Dean. “If you were to wake up tomorrow as any famous character, who would it be?”

_Dr Sexy, because then I could stare at myself all day._

_Okay, Dean, tone down the gay._

_But he’s really hot._

_Think of someone else!_

“Um. Eliot Ness?”

Castiel’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “The Prohibition agent?”

“Well, yeah, he was… kinda hot in _The Untouchables._ Plus, I heard it was getting a reboot, so I hope they cast a hot guy for it.”

“What happened to not pursuing a romantic relationship with anyone?”

“Oh come on, Robert Stack and Dr Sexy are the two people I would break this agreement with.”

“Dr Sexy?”

“Wait, no –”

* * *

“Ready?”

“Where are your cowboy boots, Doctor?”

“You know what, I hate you so much right now.”

Castiel smoothed down his suit, still grinning. “Aw, don’t be like that, _babe._ ”

“I swear to God, Castiel, I will kill you.” This was going to be their first appearance as a ‘couple’ – at the Britannia Awards, no less – and Castiel really wasn’t making it any easier to fake, deliberately breathing on his neck and invading his personal space to try and make Dean lose his cool. “Stop fucking around. You're supposed to be the sensible one.”

“Am I?” Castiel asked, hand on his chest. “I wasn’t informed.”

“Well, now you are, asshole, so put your arm around my waist and lead me like the strong handsome Alpha you are.”

“Oh, I'm handsome?”

“Fuck off.” They were given the signal by the ‘carpet manager’, and stepped out onto the red carpet, to more screams than at the last one, more camera flashes, and certainly more jealous looks, mostly directed at Castiel.

They walked together, Castiel leading, down the carpet towards the cinema. Journalists and camera operators were everywhere, including Ruby, who Dean pointedly ignored and made his way over to Garth, who was chatting to a couple of fans at the barrier. “Hey, man. Long time no see.”

Garth’s eyes widened, and he promptly hugged Dean, lifting him off his feet. “Dean! How’ve you been? It’s been so long! Oh,” he added, seemingly remembering where he was, “yeah, um, do you mind answering a couple’a questions?”

Dean smiled, leaning into Castiel. “Sure thing. Shoot.”

Garth listed off the generic questions about the film, but adding in a couple of new ones – “How do you like your steak cooked? Bess would want to know.” – so the interview wasn’t as boring as it might have been. How could it have been, with Garth? He used to irritate Dean a little, but he’d helped him out of a pretty low point in his life where he wasn’t getting any work purely with his happy-go-lucky attitude.

They chatted for a little bit, Dean discovering he’d married his girlfriend Bess, and his brother was expecting a kid in December. Promising to call him about dinner, they moved to go over to the doors of the cinema, when Ruby planted herself in front of them, and they were stuck. There was no way Dean could brush past her without looking rude, so he smiled politely and braced himself for the annoying and pointless questions she was going to ask.

“Dean! Care to answer a few questions?”

“Why not?” Dean replied, hoping his sarcasm wouldn’t be too evident on camera.

“So,” she purred, “first things first, who is _this_ handsome piece of Alpha you have here?”

Dean tried not to throw up in his mouth. “This is Castiel Novak, as I think you know.”

“Oh, of course! Tell me, Castiel, how did you two meet?”

Castiel fixed a smile on his face and answered. “Through my brother, really. I went along with him to a lounge that was under the hotel Dean was staying at, and we, well, we just hit it off, I suppose.” He turned his head to smile at Dean, and _damn_ this guy was a good actor. If Dean didn’t know he was faking it, he’d say those blue eyes were looking dreamily at him. He realised he should probably return the look, so he did, whilst Ruby cooed.

“And how serious is it? Will we see a mark on that fine body of yours, Dean?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s as serious as we want it to be, really, and I’ll let you know if it happens.”

Ruby pouted, but refrained from asking more, instead reeling off the same questions as Garth had, except without the quirky extras. They finished and said goodbye politely before finally managing to get to the doors, Castiel breathing a sigh of relief. Dean shot him a glance. “Not a fan of carpets?”

“I suppose not. Never really liked attention that much, but I’m going to get a lot of that for the next nine months, right?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, really. Now come on, we have to go watch more famous people make speeches.”

They made their way inside, and as soon as the doors shut, Dean was slammed against a wall by a furious looking Michael. “What the _fuck_ is this, Beta?”

“Uhh…” Dean couldn’t really see much, due to Michael being right up in his personal space and _snarling_ , for god’s sake. “We’re, uh, going into the awards show?”

“No.” Michael was literally spitting – gross, for one – and his lip was curled in contempt. “You're going into an awards show hand-in-hand with _my_ little brother. So I’ll ask you again; _what the fuck is this_?” He shook Dean a little, rumpling his suit.

Dean really didn’t want any trouble; he didn’t. But the thought of needling Michael was so tempting he didn’t notice his mouth opening of its own accord. “Well, Michael, your brother and I have been more than hand-in-hand, you could say. More like tongue-in –”

“WHAT?”

“Well, Cas and I hit it off after our little surprise meeting a few days ago, and he offered to take me out. I ain’t easy, don’t worry; I let him buy me two dinners first,” he said cheekily.

Michael shoved him, and whirled round to face Castiel. “Is that true?”

Cas was smirking, catching Dean’s eye and winking. “Of course, Michael. Dean and I are quite smitten.”

Dean didn’t quite anticipate the fist that came towards his face, but then, he also didn’t anticipate watching Castiel flip Michael around, pinning him against the same wall as Dean.

“Listen, shithead,” he growled, “you might be my brother, but he is _my_ mate and you _will not_ touch him. Understood?”

Holy shit. Cas was – Dean had known him for a few days, sure, but still, Cas never seemed like _that_ kind of Alpha. “Cas –”

Cas spun round, eyes clearing. “Ah – sorry.” He scowled at Michael and made his way over to Dean, checking for any wrinkles in his suit. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, fine. Should we go in?”

He straightened up, turning his back on Michael. “Yes, of course.” He took him by the hand and they went into the awards hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated !
> 
> thank you all for the ones you've left already :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm really sorry it's a bit late going up but i have a cadet test tomorrow so wish me luck 
> 
> instead of revising i'm writing gay fic
> 
> story of my life
> 
> this chapter: i'm a slut for kiss cams

They had seats smack in the middle of the room, near a couple of B-listers and writers. Cas didn’t let go of his hand as they headed in, even when they sat down; he even helped Dean into his seat. Dean hissed at him when they sat down. “What the hell are you _doing_?”

Cas looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The standing up to Michael, yeah okay, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to be holding on to me all day, alright?”

Cas dropped his gaze to their hands, and slowly let go. “Sorry.”

“S’fine.” Dean turned to face the front, folding his arms, before remembering they were supposed to be a couple, and he sighed. “Look, I don’t mind you being a little possessive, but don’t go acting like I'm your property, okay?”

“Of course.” Cas nodded earnestly, and Dean unfolded his arms. He offered his hand, ignoring Dean's raised eyebrows. “It makes it look believable.”

Honestly, who could say no to those puppy eyes?

Dean rolled his eyes and took it, definitely not taking the opportunity to shift a little closer. They stayed like that until the lights went down, going largely unnoticed in the sea of people more famous than themselves.

Finally, the lights came up on stage and everyone applauded the host, Anna Milton, looking gorgeous with her hair swept up and a smile on her face. She was hosting alone this year, because her co-host, Frank Devereaux, had gone through a slight – experience – a week ago, claiming on Twitter that the government was watching his every move, and announced he was ‘going low’, completely disappearing from the world.

Anna didn’t seem to be taking her lack of a co-host that badly, however, smiling and cracking jokes. The first few awards went to people he hadn’t really heard of, but the Excellence in Film award had him more interested. Quite a few people he knew were up for it, including Abaddon, Michael and Dorothy Lovecraft, who he happened to know had a thing with Charlie Bradbury, the VFX genius, a couple of years back.

“And the winner is…” _Please not Michael please not Michael he’s bigheaded enough already please not Michael_

“Michael Novak!”

Dean groaned, and heard Cas match him quietly. Michael was not going to let this go for the next however-many-months they had to go of this press thing, so Dean was preparing for him to be even more insufferable than usual.

Michael looked every inch the Alpha, Dean had to admit, in a perfectly fitted suit and Old-Hollywood-esque hair. He accepted his award graciously, made a bland speech about thanking his father – no mentions of his siblings, Dean noted – and then he made a comment that made Dean sit up.

“I’d also like to thank Dean Winchester for being my co-star, and for opening the door to many, ahem, underprivileged people such as himself.”

Cas growled. “Michael…”

Suddenly, there was a camera in their faces, and Dean realised this event was _televised._ So he pulled Cas closer to him and they both smiled, when Cas pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then the camera swung away, leaving Dean to get over the slight shock of what just happened. Cas, for his part, looked mostly unconcerned, flashing Dean a smile and resuming his focus on the stage, where Anna was preparing to announce the next award.

Dean sat in a bit of a daze for the rest of the show. He remembered to clap for the right people, and smile when the camera came around, but mostly he thought about Cas. He didn’t even know why; it was a _cheek kiss, Dean, pull yourself together, you’ve done more with literally everyone you’ve ever been in a relationship with_. But, whatever, he needed to get it together, because they were heading out now and he had to have all his wits about him. He took Cas’ hand and they went out, back to the blinding flashes of cameras and deafening screams of people, which only grew louder as they noticed his and Castiel’s joined hands. He turned his head to whisper in Dean’s ear. “Kiss me.”

“Huh?” Jesus Christ, he’d _just_ got over that cheek kiss.

“Come on, it’s good press.” Cas was looking at him expectantly, and so was about a thousand people, so Dean threw away all reservations and just kissed him.

It was… good. It was chaste, Cas didn’t push, but Dean still felt a little weak at the knees. Didn’t help that the screaming and the flashes were making it more surreal, as Cas chuckled into his mouth and pulled away. “Alright, Dean?”

“Yeah,” he replied breathlessly, “yeah, I'm good.”

* * *

It only made sense that they left together – it strengthened their story – and obviously paparazzi could be waiting around where Dean was staying, so Cas inviting him around was just him being kind and sparing him trouble.

_Or maybe –_

_Shut up._

Cas had called his apartment “moderate”, so Dean was understandably a little shocked when they pulled up at an apartment block wider than the city hall back in Lawrence. The guy had _valet parking_ , for god’s sake. They were let in by a doorman, and Dean was again, shocked by the elaborate décor of the lobby. Cas noticed him staring, and grinned. “Probably a good time to mention I don’t own the place; it’s one of my father’s many excess houses.”

“Dude, this lobby is fancier than that awards hall. What the hell does your apartment look like, then?”

Thankfully, not that fancy. Or at least, not as fancy as Dean was bracing himself for. It seemed Cas liked a minimalist approach for decoration, with white sofas and a black and white kitchen. Everything was spotless, making Dean raise an eyebrow. “You got a maid or something?”

“Yes. Although she’s under strict instructions not to go in my room.”

“Why?” Dean smirked, “too many Busty Asian Beauties with suspicious stains?”

“What? No!”

“It’s alright, Cas, a guy has needs.”

“Fuck off, I just don’t like people touching my stuff, alright?”

Dean hit him lightly in the arm. “Relax, Cas. Lead the way to your oh-so-secret bedroom.” He flung open the double doors at the far end of the living room dramatically, then stopped in his tracks.

Cas’ room was a _mess_. Books, papers, stationery and notepads covered every surface, and cramped, small scribbles filled all pieces of paper that Dean could see. It wasn’t just that; Cas clearly was a man after Dean’s own heart by his use of the floordrobe, clothes scattered everywhere. “Wow.”

“Sorry,” Cas scratched the back of his neck, “if I’d planned this, I would have cleaned up a little.”

“Oh, so you weren’t planning to seduce me with your gross college-student habits, then?”

“I hate you.”

“It’s fine, Cas. I'm going to be sleeping on the sofa anyway; we can just pretend I never saw this bombshell of a room.”

Cas’ brow furrowed. “What do you mean, on the couch?”

“Dude, we are fake-dating, remember? You don’t need to do that.”

He shrugged, and shuffled his feet. “Well… those sofas aren’t really very comfortable, and not made for someone as tall as you. Plus, I have a king-sized bed, so it’s not as if we have to cuddle. You can spend all night on the edge of the bed, if you want.”

_King-sized bed. You haven’t slept in one of those since that Miami holiday._

_What if I do something weird?_

_BEDHEAD._

_But –_

_SEEING. CASTIEL’S. BEDHEAD._

“Okay, then,” Dean said, “I'm in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated !
> 
> have a good day/night


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i failed that test oh well it's fine
> 
> MEANWHILE IN THE PERFECT WORLD OF FIC: >;)))))))))))

It was warm when Dean woke up. Strange; last thing he remembered was groaning over how soft the sheets on Cas’ bed were, and –

“G’morning.”

Dean rolled over, coming face-to-face with drowsy blue eyes and a mass of black hair. “Oh… hey.” _SMOOTH, DEAN, REAL SMOOTH._

Cas grinned sleepily. “Guess I was wrong. We just _had_ to cuddle.”

Dean hadn’t quite noticed Cas’ arms loosely around his waist, or that their legs were tangled together and _Dean, you are staring at an angel right now, look at his eyes oh my god._ Still, he made no effort to move, instead just lying back down and leaning in closer. “Mmh, whatever. You're warm.”

“Thanks.” His voice sounded slightly strained, making Dean wonder if anything was wrong. Nothing happened, however, so he just lay there, listening to Cas’ heartbeat. What were the things he had to do today? Something about interviews, right?

“Ughhhh.” Cast interviews for the movie. And he had a _joint_ session with Michael. Oh the joy.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just – movie stuff.”

“Ah.” Cas absent-mindedly carded his hands through Dean’s hair, which _felt like actual bliss._

_Dial it back, Dean._

_IT FEELS NICE OKAY._

He must have grumbled a little, because Cas pulled his fingers away for a second. “Are you alright?”

“Ngh.” He grappled for Cas’ hand and planted it back on his head. “Stop and I kill your entire family.”

Cas chuckled and resumed his labours. “Never took you for the cuddly type.”

“You clearly don’t know me well enough. I'm like a freaking octopus in bed.”

“I'm sure that excited a few of your partners in the past.”

“What – I didn’t date a furry, you freak!”

“I'm kidding!” Cas ruffled his hair, then looked over at the clock. “It’s eight thirty.”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t you have something to do today?”

“Ngghhhh.”

“Do you want to lie here for another hour and then have late breakfast?”

“Mmm.”

“Okay.”

* * *

 

In addition to being hot, funny and downright adorable, Cas was also an amazing cook.

_(Perfect match)_

_I can hear you even when you whisper._

_((Perfect maaaaatch.))_

He made a good fry up, not as good as his mom’s back home, but decent. But the _pancakes._ If Dean could marry a food, it would be Cas’ pancakes.

He moaned when he bit into one, making Cas look very uncomfortable. “Are you – do you want me to leave the room?”

“You know what, I wanna marry you,” Dean said, focusing so much on his pancake he didn’t notice Cas stumbling back into a cabinet and banging his head on the pot rack. “Let’s get fake married; I’ll provide the eyecandy, and you can cook and write amazing movies. Perfect life plan, right there.”

“Why am I the stay-at-home husband?”

“Honey, the world can’t be deprived of _this_.” Dean gestured to his face. “Plus, you don’t like the limelight, and you could always Skype the people you're writing for.”

“You know, I am actually an Alpha, Dean, not an Omega. I don’t belong in a kitchen.”

And like that the moment was broken. Dean stabbed into a piece of bacon and didn’t answer. He had forgotten Cas was an Alpha, and with a brother like Michael, it was only natural some of his pig-headed ideas would get into Cas’ head. Still, it didn’t stop the words from sucking all the easiness out of the room, to replace it with slight frostiness on Dean’s part.

Cas noticed that he’d gone silent, and didn’t talk to him again over breakfast. He only spoke up to offer Dean a change of clothes, which he denied, and to wish him a good day, which Dean didn’t reply to.

He took advantage of the drivers Castiel had, saving him the trouble of hailing a taxi. Just when he thought Castiel wasn’t anything like his brother, he had to go and say that. Just great.

_Maybe he didn’t mean it._

_Of course he did, he’s an Alpha, they all think like that._

_Benny doesn’t._

_Yeah, well, he’s an exception._

_Nor does Jess._

_You know what? You can just stop talking now._

He was moody during all the trip back to the hotel, not even sending a wink towards the receptionist on his way past to the elevator. Slamming the door to his room, he threw his phone down and crashed on his (less comfortable than Castiel’s) bed. It was only ten o’clock, but already he wanted to sleep for the rest of the day. The interviews were at eleven forty-five, though, and he needed to get there so the makeup team had enough time to make him look like a living human being.

His phone buzzed four times on the ride to the studios. He checked them once; all from Cas. He put the phone back in his pocket, switching it to silent.

When he arrived, he was greeted by a no-nonsense woman called Pamela, who, despite looking a little less than professional, was brisk and terrifyingly efficient, getting everything set up in a matter of minutes. Aaron wasn’t there to do his makeup this time; instead it was a short, excitable girl called Becky, who introduced herself as a ‘superfan’.

She didn’t stop talking throughout the entire process, but once Dean got past the weird advances and innuendos, he began to like her. They talked about their crushes back in high school, and discovered they both had a thing for Dr Sexy, which in Dean’s opinion made her a friend for life. Eventually, she stepped back with a flourish, and Dean walked over to where Pamela was waiting, in front of several huge lights, two cameras, and of course, a scowling Michael.

As Dean sat down, whilst Pamela’s back was turned, Michael hissed in his ear. “I’ve seen those tabloid pictures, Winchester. You better tell me it’s fake, or next time I see you won’t be in such a public place.”

“What photos, Michael?” Dean asked innocently. “The ones of me kissing my boyfriend? Or the ones of you trying to beat the shit outta me?”

Michael’s face dropped, and Dean smirked. “What pictures?” he asked lowly.

“Look on any tabloid site, since you're so familiar with ‘em. Guessing you won’t be as welcome at the Brits next year.”

Michael was about to reply, when Pamela sat back down, and his demeanour changed completely, smiling and chatting with her and Dean as if he hadn’t been threatening bodily violence thirty seconds ago. Pamela signalled the cameraman, and the interview began.

* * *

“So, final question. Dean, what made Michael a good scene partner? You guys seemed to have a good time on set; what was it like filming those intense scenes with him?”

_Now how to say he was a stuck up prick politely?_

“Well, Michael’s really good at what he does, so he gave me a couple of pointers when we started filming.” _Yeah, like ‘stay the hell away from me when we’re not filming'._ “We had a pretty good connection from the first day of shooting, so playing brothers wasn’t as hard as we thought.” _Because you're both hard-headed stubborn dickheads; he’s just more of a racist one._ “When we did the more intense bits, we just spent a while trying to fire each other up so we’d have more energy when it came to acting out the scene.”

Pamela smiled. “Well, I'm sure we’ll all be looking forward to seeing you both on a screen together at some time in the future. For now, we say goodbye to Michael Novak and Dean Winchester; thank you both for being here!”

They both smiled and waved, then as soon as the cameras stopped rolling Michael fake-gagged and shifted away from Dean. “Nice last answer, Beta; that’s pretty much guaranteed us roles opposite each other _again_ , and neither of us really want that, do we?”

“No, we don’t, but I think one of us doesn’t want to because he’s pigheaded and has his head up his own ass, and the other is sick of it. Hopefully you crash and die on your way home.” Dean walked off, back to the makeup set where Becky was waiting to take the gunk off his face. Lounging on the counter was another familiar face.

Aaron turned around and winked at Dean. “Had fun?”

“It was an interview with Michael, how fun do you think it was?”

He shrugged. “Fair enough. I was about to head off; you wanna join me for lunch?”

Dean’s thoughts drifted to Castiel and the rules for a second, but he brushed them off and grinned. “Sure, why not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated !
> 
> hope you all have a good day/night


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm not dead
> 
> i haven't been having the best few days sorry guys
> 
> and this is really short anyway it's not even 1k
> 
> sorry
> 
> if u can't tell i've been having difficulty writing as well as finding motivation for anything
> 
> anyway enough of that
> 
> in this chapter: we have another not date™ this time with everyone's favourite stoner

Aaron’s tastes seemed to differ from Castiel’s, as he led Dean into a luridly decorated café on a busy street. “What?” he said to Dean’s raised eyebrows, “they do good milkshakes, plus I'm a makeup artist; no-one knows me.”

Dean shrugged. “Fair enough.” The same couldn’t be said for him, however; people were already pointing and whispering, so he turned his back and faced the counter. “What do you normally get?”

“Their speciality is hot dogs, but it ain’t kosher, so I tend to go for veggie burgers. Apparently they’re good though, according to Becks and Charlie.”

“Bradbury?”

“Yeah, you know her?”

“Vaguely.”

“I’ll introduce her to you properly sometime.”

“Sounds good.” They fell silent, content to just be surrounded by the noise of other people. Dean was pretty sure he caught the tail end of several murder plots, one theory about Paris Hilton being a cannibal, and one bizarre conversation that apparently was part of a contract to sell someone’s soul to corporate Satan. They eventually got to the front of the queue, Dean deciding to go for a hot dog, along with fries and a huge milkshake. Aaron led him to a table near the back – “your face is more famous than mine” – and they sat down, discussing the makeup the server had on.

“It’s an interesting look –”

“Bitch half her eyelash was falling off. And that _liner_ –”

“Dean I'm supposed to be the makeup artist here –”

“- looked like some five-year-old took a crayon to her face.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, resting his chin on his hand. “You're a lot cooler than I thought.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Even though Betas and Omegas are technically in the same boat still, doesn’t stop some of ‘em treat us like dirt. Like we need more Alpha behaviour in this world.”

“Wait, you're an Omega?” _He’s pretty damn successful, considering how LA is._

“Yeah, but it’s not common knowledge, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread anything.”

“No, course not.” _Besides, he’s not the only one hiding things, is he?_

* * *

The food, as Aaron said, was pretty good; as was the company. Aaron turned out to be quite the flirt, even if he insisted he was only being friendly. Dean wasn’t too bothered; it wasn’t as if he was _actually_ dating Castiel, and technically going out on a platonic ‘date’ wasn’t breaking the rules. So what if Castiel was going to be mad? He shouldn’t have said what he said, and if this ended up in the tabloids, who cared? Not Dean.

_Liar. You so care about Cas._

_Not enough to warrant your opinion._

_You were fucking smitten from the start, bitch. Have you_ seen _the guy’s eyes?_

_Yeah, yeah, heaven on a fuckin plate, what-thefuck-ever. Point is, he’s a bigoted pig, and I don’t care what he thinks._

_Sure. I’m also sure you wouldn’t care if he found out –_

“Dean?” Aaron waved a little, smirking. “You drifted.”

“Shit, sorry. Carry on.”

“Something on your mind?” Aaron looked genuinely concerned, and Dean bit his lip. Should he tell him?

_About what, Cas being a dick or you being –_

_Shut up!_

“You know I’m fake dating Castiel, right?”

Aaron relaxed, shooting him a sly grin. “Is that what this is about? You fell for the guy you’re fake dating?”

“What? No!”

“So what’s up?”

“He kinda – said something, and it pissed me off a bit.”

“What did he say? Something about Betas?”

“Nah. I said he should be a stay-at-home husband, and he just made some asshole comment. I’ve been ignoring him all day.”

“That doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship.” Dean could tell he was trying not to laugh, and smiled a little. “Does he know it pissed you off?”

“Honestly?” Dean sighed. “I don’t know. He didn’t seem to pick up on why, but he knew I was pissed off. Haven’t checked my phone, so I have no clue what he sent me.”

“You want some solid advice from a totally qualified therapist?”

“Shoot.”

“Talk to him. Let him know it was a shitty thing to say. He’ll come round, then you can live out the next ten years in fake domestic bliss.”

“Thanks, Aaron.” It _was_ solid advice, and Dean was half inclined to take it.

_But you're not going to, because you're a stubborn asshole._

_Hey, stubborn assholes can change._

_When you broke up with Cassie, it took you six weeks to swallow your pride and ask for your damn jacket back._

_I did it though, didn’t I?_

“Dean!” Aaron was rolling his eyes fondly. “You have a habit of doing that.”

“Sorry, dude. What were you saying?”

“I was _saying_ , we should make this a thing. You're a decent guy, and hey, pretty easy on the eyes.” He winked, and Dean was left a little speechless.

“Yeah, um. Yeah, why not? You, uh, yeah. Not bad. Yourself.” _Wooooow._

Aaron’s face brightened. “Great! So – ah, shit. Duck!” He hid his face, peeking out over his fingers.

“What?” Dean didn’t dare look round, in fear of a damn axe-murderer or something.

“Paps. If they see you here, we’re gonna get swamped. We gotta find a way out of here.”

Fuck. He could go on about not caring about Cas, but if pictures of him looking like he was on a date with another guy came out, Jody would have his _head._

_Probably more than that._

_Can you quit it? This is serious._

_Oh yeah, I know. Your balls are at stake here._

“Any ideas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated !
> 
> hope you have a good day/night :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends i feel better today thanks for waiting and being so lovely about it
> 
> so more tests that i didn't bomb: physics and french #helencandoschoolshit
> 
> in this chapter: we have swings in this relationship the size of the grand canyon also aaron is a queen

“Head down, don’t draw attention to yourself. I know a girl, lemme go get her.” Aaron slowly got out of his chair, then walked over to a waitress stood near the kitchen door. They spoke quietly, before she nodded and opened the doors to the kitchen. Aaron slipped inside and gestured to Dean, who rose and went over to join them, hiding his face from the photographers sniffing like hounds at the front of the café. As soon as he got through the doors, they swung shut and Dean heaved a sigh.

“That was intense.”

Aaron grinned at him, and was about to reply when they were interrupted by a huge man, who looked disapprovingly at Aaron.

“Really? You use my kitchen as an escape again?”

“Sorry Golem; pretty boy here is like a magnet for the press. Please can we use the back door?”

Golem crossed his arms and scrutinised Dean. “You are the reason this idiot keeps coming to use my kitchen?”

Dear god, he was about to be murdered by a seven-foot-tall chef. “No, sir, only this time.”

Golem narrowed his eyes, then turned to Aaron, disapproving stare still fixed on his face. “Mr Bass, you know what I said last time, and –”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll help out here all next Saturday, now can we _please_ get out of here? Paps are probably going to force down the door any minute, and Hael already hates me enough.”

The chef grumbled a little, stepping aside. Aaron flashed him a smile and grabbed Dean’s hand, leading him through a maze of cooks and servers, narrowly avoiding several collisions, and stealing some of the food along the way. Eventually they made it out the back, smelling like pancake mix and laughing.

“Crossing that off the bucket list.”

“What?” Aaron asked, leaning against the side of the building. “Escaped from crazy paparazzi with a moderately attractive makeup artist?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks for helping me out, though.”

Aaron nodded, chewing on his lip. He seemed to be about to say something, and Dean braced himself for the inevitable question. “Dean…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you –”

“Round the back! They’re round the back!”

They whipped around to hear several sets of excited footsteps, coupled with screaming. Aaron grabbed his hand again, and they sprinted down an alleyway, and onto the streets, where he quickly let go and whispered “We can’t be seen together. Here’s my number.” He shoved a piece of paper into his hand. “And remember,” he called as he backed away, “talk to your boyfriend!” He saluted, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Dean stood on a street corner clutching a scrap of paper.

He roused himself upon hearing more yelling, and walked in the opposite direction to Aaron, hailing a cab and ducking into it, praying he’d avoided the cameras. Slumping down in the seat, he finally pulled out his phone. He’d originally only taken it out to put in Aaron’s number, but he saw the texts from Cas and hesitated. He didn’t really want to spend the next nine months ignoring Cas and only being with him for public stuff. Sighing, he clicked on the notifications.

_Can you call me? I think we should talk_

_I don’t want to break the contract, I just think we need to set some things straight_

_Ha, straight_

_Sorry, bad taste_

There wasn’t an apology in there, but he still wanted to talk to Dean, so that was a bonus. He left him on read and went to put Aaron’s number in his phone, adding a winky face after his name. He went back to the messages and brooded over what to say.

In the end, he decided he was overthinking it, and typed the first thing that came into his head.

_Sure, I’ll call you when I get home x_

Was the ‘x’ too much? He didn’t know, and sent it before he could take it back. Fuck, that was hard, and it wasn’t even a difficult question _Jesus Christ, Dean, get it together, you're not fifteen anymore._

Okay. Fine. He could deal. He put the phone away, promising he wouldn’t look at it until he got back.

* * *

“Hey.”

“Hello, Dean.”

There was a silence. “Look, Castiel, say what you want to say, or I'm going to start making assumptions.”

A crackly sigh came from the other end of the line. “I apologise for whatever I said earlier, alright? I don’t know what it was, but I most likely didn’t mean it.”

Dean considered mentioning exactly _what_ had made him pissed off, but decided against it. “It’s fine. Just – you know, be careful about what you say, okay? Then this can all be sunshine and fucking gay-ass rainbows like normal.”

“Of course.” Cas paused, and there was a faint _ding_ in the background. “Ah, hang on, I just have to – Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean was absent-mindedly fiddling with the nightstand drawers, but straightened up at Cas’ tone. “What’s up?”

Cas’ voice was low. “Were you out today?”

“Yeah…”

“With who?” Cas’ voice was even, but Dean was on edge.

“And you care because…?”

“With who, Dean?”

“Jesus, Cas, what does it matter?!”

“It matters because you're meant to be my _mate_ , and now there’s pictures of you and some guy being posted on every rag in LA!”

“Fucking hell, he’s a _friend_ , okay? Aaron Bass, go look him up, he’s a fucking makeup artist, we met two damn days ago!”

“Really? Because you’re looking a little more than ‘friendly’ here.”

“Is that the photo of him grabbing my hand? Because we were trying not to get separated whilst being chased by a screaming mass of paparazzi!”

“Sure.”

“What’s wrong with you? We’re not even dating, Cas, in case you didn’t remember, and I’ll repeat what I said at the awards show; I'm not your damn property, so get your head out your ass and call me when you grow up.” He hung up, and shoved his phone back in his pocket, ignoring the buzz that came a moment later.

Instead, he started to pack his things; he was headed back to Kansas for a couple of days, mostly to provide moral support for Sam, who was freaking out over proposing to Jessica. Dean had gone out with him to buy the ring, he’d prepared the whole speech he wanted to say, and all that was left was for him to build up the courage to actually ask the girl. Dean would be the first to confess that he was a little scared of commitment; Cassie being the only long-term relationship he’d had – a whopping six months – so proposals was something he had little experience in.

He’d just managed to find his shaving cream when the buzzing in his back pocket was finally pissing him off too much, so he dragged it out and hit the answer button. “What?”

“Dean, listen –”

“Unless you're calling to grovel for my forgiveness, hang up now.”

He heard Cas huff, then a creaking noise, as if he’d sat down. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I am sorry for acting like a jealous Alpha, and I beg for your forgiveness,” he said in a deadpan voice.

Decent apology, but Dean was still a little pissed off. “Come on, you live with performers; you can do better than that.”

Cas huffed again, then there was a thud. “Oh, dear sweet Dean,” he started, “will you please, _please_ accept my humble apology, even though I am not worthy of such forgiveness, of notice by the beauty of yourself, and –”

Dean couldn’t stop laughing long enough to come up with a clever response, so he just snorted in the phone, and smiled at Cas’ laugh at the other end. When he didn’t feel like he’d cough up his lungs, he sat down and sighed. “Alright, you're forgiven for now. I might decide to un-forgive you later, mind.”

“Keeping me on my toes, Dean?”

“Whatever. I’m going back to Kansas for a couple of days, is there anything you need me to be here for?”

“What are you going for?”

“My brother is _finally_ proposing to his girlfriend after like two months of prep and he wants me there for moral support, even though I have been in a whopping total of one serious relationship.”

“Do – do you want me to come with you?”

To Kansas. Back home to his own apartment. Where he might have to meet his parents. Why in the name of Swayze would Dean _ever –_

“Yeah, sure, it’ll be fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated !
> 
> hope you have a good day/night :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miss me?
> 
> didn't think so
> 
> guess whose birthday it is in five days it's ya girl's
> 
> okay so this chapter: samuel's back and dean is hiding something

“You can’t avoid talking to me forever.”

“Yes I can.”

“It’s not a big deal, Dean.”

“ _Clearly_ it is, according to you.”

“Oh my god, fine. You can have the window seat on the way back, deal?”

Dena shrugged. “Fine.”

“You’re being pathetic.”

“Says the guy who nearly threw a tantrum in the middle of the plane because he wanted the window seat.”

Cas rolled his eyes and smiled. “Aw, you're cute when you're mad.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Novak.” Dean uncrossed his arms, and took out his phone. “Agh, damnit.”

“What?”

“I forgot to download my music. It only works on wifi.”

“So… connect to the internet then?” Dean almost laughed, then saw Cas’ genuinely confused look.

“Wifi costs a fortune on planes, Cas. Didn’t you know?”

Cas looked embarrassed. “I’ve… never flown coach before, I didn’t know that.”

Now Dean was really laughing. “Aw, rich boy’s confused over how the commoners live, how cute.”

“Fuck off,” Cas grumbles, “not my fault my father made sure we never flew coach.” He didn’t say anything for a bit, staring out the window. “Company’s better though,” he added nonchalantly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so I’m better than a racist pig, am I? How lovely.” He meant it as a joke, but also to get across his point. Cas seemed to get it, and cast his eyes down.

“About what I said, when you stayed with me…”

“Yeah?”

“I realised what I said offended you, and I'm sorry.” He said it with finality, as if him apologising fixed everything in an instant.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“It’s good that you're acknowledging it; doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you yet.”

“Oh… okay.”

They didn’t talk for a while. Dean abandoned his quest to listen to music and read some mythology book he’d bought in a hippy shop in LA, and Cas just continued staring out of the window with some fancy noise-cancelling headphones on. The air hostesses came around with the food carts, and one of them recognised Dean, leading to an impromptu signing and flirting session, which caused Cas to come back into the picture, making sure to show the hostesses that Dean was most certainly taken. Once they’d gone, and Dean had gotten a coffee, he remained leaning into Dean’s side, without his headphones, and whilst Dean was still a little irritated with him, it felt nice to feel someone next to him, especially when they went through a patch of turbulence and he found his hand somehow holding Cas’ hand in a vice grip.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

“Yep. Fine.” He forced himself to let go of Cas’ hand and surreptitiously wiped it on his jeans. He forgot how much he hated flying, and _Brother Mine_ was supposed to be going on a world press tour soon, which wasn’t going to be fun at all.

“Are you sure? I can get you some sleeping pills or something.”

“Don’t be dumb, Cas,” Dean snapped, “it’s a three-hour flight, and we’ll be landing in a couple’a hours. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Cas moved away from him, and Dean was left trying to stop his hands from shaking, pointedly ignoring the ‘gorgeous view’ that Cas pointed out.

* * *

Sam met them in Arrivals, bright-eyed and smiley, without Jess. He shook Cas’ hand enthusiastically, and led them out into the decidedly colder Kansas sunshine. Cas made the mistake of asking him about Jess, and the next half hour was filled with Sam gushing about his soon-to-be fiancée, about her hair and how her eyes glittered or something, and that even though she was an Alpha her family were perfectly open to them dating, and blah, blah, Jess is perfect, blah, blah. Eventually they made it to Sam and Jess’ apartment, and Dean made himself at home straight away, ditching his bags and kicking off his shoes to flop onto the sofa. Sam regarded him amusedly.

“Alright, Dean?”

“Don’t talk to me until I don’t have any memories of that flight anymore.”

“Aw, did the little film star get scared again?”

“I didn’t even have Metallica, Sammy!”

“What a shame.” Sam shoved him off the sofa and stretched out on it, taking up all the room with his gargantuan legs. Cas was still stood in the doorway confused – adorable – squint on his face. “Come on, dude, we don’t bite.”

“No, I –” Cas shook himself, and came further in, sitting down in an armchair. “Sorry.”

“S’fine. Anyway, Samuel, tell Cas about your plan to propose.”

Sam sat up, face brightening. “Okay, so, I don’t want to propose in a public place because it might pressure her into saying yes and I don’t want that at all, so I'm thinking I take her on a date out to where we first met, and then I'm gonna cook for her at home. I’ve been practising,” he said proudly, “and over a glass of something nice I’m going to ask her; like down-on-one-knee type thing.” He looked excited, and Cas smiled warmly.

“That sounds very romantic, Sam. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“Hopefully.” Sam looked nervous, and Dean clapped him on the shoulder.

“We’ve been planning this for a solid two months, brother. She’ll love it, don’t worry. And if not,” he added, “we’ll all go get hammer-drunk at the Roadhouse, yeah?”

“I’m sure Ellen’ll love to be clearing up after our sorry asses for the millionth time.”

“And it’s not going to happen,” Dean stressed, “because Jess will say yes. You two are smitten; I feel like I'm in a sappy chick-flick whenever I see you.”

Sam shoved his shoulder, grinning. “Piss off, you jerk. Who wants lunch?”

“If you manage to make something edible, bitch, I think I might just die anyway!” Dean called after him, turning to face Cas again, who still looked a little bemused. “What’s up, sunshine?”

“Nothing, you just – you two have a very different dynamic to – what I’m used to.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Lunch with my family wasn’t exactly – friendly. Usually was just me and my brothers sat around, waiting for Dad to show up.”

“Sounds like a blast. Mom and Dad cook together; they taught me, but apparently Sammy never really learnt the lessons, like how to _not burn toast,_ ” he yelled in the direction of the kitchen.

“Fuck off!” was the reply. Then came “Uh, Dean?” followed by the smoke alarm.

After two minutes of frantic wafting and trying to convince the elderly neighbour that _no, we weren’t smoking weed and please don’t call the police._ Although, in Dean’s opinion, she had a pretty suspicious smell going on herself.

Finally, there was a somewhat edible meal on the table, and Sam waved off Cas’ offer to serve, instead asking to speak with Dean, who followed him into the kitchen. “What’s wrong, Sam?”

“Is everything okay? Like, with Cas.”

“I think so.” Dean looked over his brother’s shoulder at Cas, who was digging into a sandwich. “I mean, there was a bit of an issue, but everything’s cool now, I think.”

“Does he know?”

“No, Sam,” he said quietly, “and he’s not going to know, unless you like the taste of knuckles.”

“Okay.” Sam raised his arms. “I just think that you should –”

“Sam.” His brother sighed and dropped his gaze. “He doesn’t need to know.”

“Okay.”

“Now, let’s go have lunch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed it !
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello how are you all
> 
> it was my birthday two days ago that's why it took me a little while to get this up
> 
> t'was a decent one 
> 
> in this chapter: we have a filler and a scary movie

Lunch was decent, considering it was made by Sam, but conversation was stilted. Dean and Cas didn’t look at each other very much, and any attempts made by Sam to try and include them both in conversation fizzled out.

“So, Cas, what kind of music do you like?”

“Classical music, mostly. Chopin was one of my favourites as a child.”

“Pretty different to your tastes, huh, Dean?” Sam turned to Dean, who was staring at his plate. “Dean?”

“Huh? Oh, sure.”

Sam rolled his eyes, and kicked Dean under the table. “You probably know he likes Metallica and stuff, right?” he said to Castiel, who smiled.

“Yes, his t-shirts say as much.”

“Did he also tell you he’s obsessed with Taylor Swift?” Now it was Sam’s turn to get his shins kicked, repeatedly. He smirked, and continued. “He made me delete videos of him dancing to Shake It Off last year.”

“Sammy I swear to actual god I’m going to murder you later. Slowly.”

The revelation apparently had the desired effect, however, as Castiel was snorting into his food, and Dean was playfully glaring at him. “Don’t mock my music taste, Cas, you know you love it.”

“Of course, Dean, no judgement here.”

“You're a lying shit, Novak.”

“You love it.” _Yeah, true._

_Shut it._

Before he could respond, the door opened, and Sam jumped up like a puppy at the voice from the hall. “Hey, boys!”

“Jess!” She came into the kitchen, face lighting up at the sight of Dean.

“Dean! Sorry I didn’t catch you at the premiere, I – oh, hello.” She noticed Cas, still sat down and staring at her. “You're Castiel Novak, right? Dean’s boyfriend.”

“Uh, yes.” He held out his hand. Jess ignored it and hugged him full-force, startling Cas judging by the look on his face. _What do I do?_  He mouthed. Dean shrugged; no one could stop Jess in anything, even awkward fake-boyfriend-meeting.

“Oh, it’s so good to meet you! _Someone_ –” she cast a look at Dean “– couldn’t be bothered to introduce us, so I had to find out from tabloids.”

Dean shifted his gaze to the floor. “Sorry, Jess. I – got caught up in stuff.”

“Clearly.” She looked stern, and reminded Dean disconcertingly of his own mom. Both Alphas, both blondes, both unstoppable forces that scared the shit out of Dean sometimes. “Anyway, I gotta change, but we should have a date night. Hey,” her eyes lit up, “there’s a movie I’ve really been wanting to see. How about we all go tonight? Sam?” she looked over at him, and Sam smirked at Dean.

“Sure. Sounds like fun.”

_Oh for fuck’s sake._

* * *

The movie wasn’t too scary; average serial-killer-in-the-house thing, so Dean and Jess spent the majority of the time sharing the popcorn whilst their boyfriends clung onto them and screamed every ten seconds.

“Dude, you're a grownup, stop it!” he whispered, when Cas screamed in his ear for the fourth time.

“It’s not that ba – OH FUCK!”

“Shhhhhhh!” Most of the audience looked as if they were fed up by now, and honestly, Dean couldn’t blame them. Cas had led the way into the cinema, claiming to not be scared of horror movies. Two minutes in, his hand was glued to Dean’s.

“You haven’t even eaten your popcorn; you okay?”

“Fine.” He let go of Dean and sat up straight. “I am perfectly – JEEEEESUS CHRIST.”

Dean stifled a laugh, handing him the popcorn. “Maybe next time we should see a rom-com?”

“We will never speak of this again.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean saluted, and Cas settled back next to him, managing to contain his screeches for the rest of the movie. They stepped outside, Dean and Jess talking about how crap the storyline was; Sam and Cas trying to regulate their heartbeats again.

Once they reached the sidewalk, Sam turned to Dean. “Didn’t you say you were, uh, gonna head to your apartment after this?”

“No, we were – uh…” Dean caught the looks on Sam’s face, “yeah, actually, yeah, we’re just gonna, head off. Great seeing you, Jess.” She was all smiles, and hugged him tightly.

Jess opened her arms and looked expectantly at Cas. “Come on, you're not leaving without a hug.”

Cas rolled his eyes, but hugged her nonetheless. Dean would swear he had the faintest of smiles on his face as he let go, then turned to Dean. “So, are we off then?”

Dean smirked at Sam. “Yeah, I think we are. See you tomorrow, Sammy.”

“Bye!” Sam and Jess got into a taxi, leaving the other two on the side of the road.

“So,” Dean said, facing Cas, “where d’ya want to go?”

* * *

“Oh, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Hiya, Ellen.” The woman put down the glasses she was holding, and came over, enveloping Dean.

“Kid, it’s good to see you. How’s fame and fortune treating ya?”

“Not too bad. I got a hot boyfriend outta it, so…” He gestured to Cas, and Ellen raised her eyebrows.

“What is it with you and blue eyes, Dean? Ellen Harvelle,” she said to Cas, “I own the Roadhouse, so no fighting in here, yeah? Although, looking at you, you can probably afford to pay the damages.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cas looked truly scared, and Dean would laugh if he didn’t know Ellen as well as he did.

“Come on, Cas, you’ve still gotta meet Jo.”

A blonde head popped out from behind the bar “Someone talkin’ about me?”

Jo Harvelle was probably the scariest person Dean had gone to school with. Aside from having a tongue sharper than knives, she also had somehow managed to single-handedly TP the entire art block, clingfilm every main door in the school, and put the principal’s chair on the roof of the teacher’s annex. To this day, Dean had never figured out how she’d done it.

“Jo! How’s Bobby doing?”

She shrugged. “Still a grumpy alcoholic. How about you? LA treating you right?” She caught sight of Cas, and pulled a face remarkably similar to her mother’s. “ _You_ must be Castiel.”

If possible, Cas looked even more frightened of Jo than he had Ellen. “Uh, yeah. I’m Cas.”

“Don’t mess Dean around, alright? I’ll kick your ass if you do.” Cas looked at ease suddenly, making Jo narrow her eyes. “What?”

“Oh – nothing. You just – remind me of a friend of mine.”

Jo nodded, and gestured to the bar. “So, whaddya want? You're still paying full price, Winchester,” she added.

“Aw, damnit.”

They ate dinner there, and spent the evening catching up with the Harvelles, learning that Jo’s brother, Ash, had gone to MIT and would be back for Thanksgiving, and introducing Cas to all the regulars in the bar, who all seemed to be slightly suspicious of Cas but warmed to him anyway. At around nine, when Dean was considering heading back to his own apartment, he got a text from Sam.

“Everyone listen up!” he called, standing up on the table, much to Ellen’s annoyance. “Everyone knows my love-sick brother, righ’? Well, he finally got up the courage to ask his girlfriend to marry him, and does anyone want to guess what she said?” People shouted out answers, ranging from the sweet to the decidedly more lewd. “Aw, shut it, Mildred, you're too old to be saying that. She said yes, you dumbasses!” The people who knew the Winchesters cheered, and even those who didn’t still clapped.

Dean got down off the table with the help of Cas, whose ears had gone bright red throughout the whole announcement. “So, I’d like to propose a toast to the absent couple, who’ve given us a great excuse to have another round!”

While Ellen alternated between getting the drinks and playfully scowling at Dean, he leaned into Cas and whispered “You’ll be my date, right?”

“I’d be more than happy to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed it !
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost a month late in updating and it's not even plot
> 
> well done me
> 
> anyway hi hello i haven't wasted away i've just been busy with school and writer's block yay
> 
> this chapter - lovesick fools waking up together and that's literally it

Bleh. Between six months of filming and a month of press stuff, Dean hadn't drunk that much in a while, and he was feeling it.  He didn't even remember walking back home, but  clearly  he got there; Swayze's face was staring at him from the ceiling. There was also a warm presence in the bed next to him, which a quick glance confirmed was Cas. Dean found that he wasn't actually that bothered about it. He slumped back down in bed, grabbing his phone and checking the clock. 

Aside from the time - nine-forty - he had seven texts from Sam,  probably  detailing every part of the proposal; one from Jody about next week's interviews; one from his mom, asking if he wanted to come for lunch some time this week, and one from Benny, who was planning to come back to Lawrence for a little bit and was asking to meet up. Instead of being responsible and replying to everyone, Dean switched it to silent and pulled the covers back over himself. Cas was still sleeping, and looked adorable, not that Dean would ever admit that without a gun to his head. 

He didn't remember falling back asleep, but woke again to quiet groaning and some classical song he'd never heard of. It cut out with an accompanying slam, and Cas fell back down, making the springs creak.

"Sorry," he yawned, stretching out like a cat, "that's usually my alarm to go jogging."

"I'm sure the world can deal without you in running gear for one morning."

Cas chuckled lowly, running a hand through his hair. "Glad to know someone appreciates all this."

"Gnh. How did we even get home?"

"I had to wrestle you out of the door, because you were racking up a tab that could pay for your next movie, and then you kind of took the lead. I guess even drunk you know your way around."

"'Course I do. Spent most of my life in the city; Mom and Dad only moved out to the suburbs three years ago. We used to live near the university; me and Benny used to sneak out to the union whenever we could. Oh, don't give me that look, I bet you did it too," he said, to Cas' raised eyebrows.

He raised his hands. "Guilty. Although my father ran much tighter security around our house; Gabe used to smuggle me out in his car."

"Greatest brother, right there. Sam was boring; always focused on his career." Dean paused, then added, "Might have also been because he was fourteen when we were doing that."

"Aaaand there it is," Cas said, smiling  slightly. "My brothers and I are quite close in age; it helped, sometimes." 

"How so?"

"Well," he said, grinning, "I was the youngest, which meant I could steal their old tests and appear to be a top student. Not that I wasn't already," he hastened to add.

"Sure thing, Einstein." He glanced again at his phone, and groaned. "Come on, we'd better get up. Sam's announced he'll be over in an hour."

Cas nodded, and stretched up again, drawing Dean's attention to both the shirt and his stomach. "Hey, that's - is that my shirt?"

Not that he was complaining; Cas looked damn fine in it.

He looked down, arms still raised. "Oh - yeah. I didn't have time to go and get one from Sam's, so I figured you wouldn't mind."

"S'okay." _Now how to tell him you wouldn't mind waking up to that view every morning?_

_Shut up._

"So! Breakfast!" Cas clapped his hands together and swung himself out of bed. Dean followed suit, and joined him in the kitchen.  They ended up making omelettes with whatever hadn't expired in Dean's fridge, although Dean did have to run down to the store for eggs in his pyjamas. It would have been fine had he not gotten recognised in said shop and forced to take pictures. When he told Cas about the encounter back home, he laughed so much he almost burnt the omelette. 

They managed to wolf down two omelettes each, and Dean had to stop himself from asking Cas to move in then and there. It wasn't at all fair that someone managed to hit the jackpot in the genepool. Attractive, smart, funny, _and_ a good cook? He could swear God was out to get him. 

A comfortable kind of quiet followed breakfast. Cas washed the dishes and Dean tidied up the place; there was plenty to do after six months away. To his surprise, all his plants were alive, which was most likely thanks to Mildred. Even though he may not have looked it, Dean liked plants, rare ones especially.  It started in high school, when he'd become so stressed with school, AP classes and his theatre group, that sometimes he'd forget to eat at all. Eventually  , his mom stepped in, telling him that he had to eat whenever he watered his plants. It had turned out to be a real help, and Dean had stuck by that schedule even as he moved out and went to Hollywood.

Sam rung the bell right when everything  was done, and Cas was beginning to look  slightly  awkward. "Oh good, you aren't naked." 

"Sorry, what?"

"Don't pretend, Dean," he said, pointing an accusing finger, "my teenage years  were scarred by  you, and you know it." 

"Alright, alright, chill. What d'ya want? Haven't changed your mind about the wedding already, right?"

"No! Shut up. I came by to say Jess invited you to lunch, and to talk about Thanksgiving. You'll come, right Cas?"

 Cas' head snapped up. "I, uh, that's kind of you, Sam, but -"

"He'd love to," Dean answered for him. At least, he thought, it would give their dating story more credibility.  Cas hadn't mentioned anything about Aaron, who he still hadn't texted, nor had he been particularly pigheaded recently.

"Great! Now if you'll excuse me, I have a _fiancée_ to get back to."

"For a repeat of last night?" Dean asked, smirking.

"How did you know?"

"You stopped texting me around half nine.  Half an hour after a proposal wouldn't seem like the most sensible time to sleep, so I kinda put together what you were doing." At Sam's  slightly  horrified look, he clapped him on the shoulder. "Ah, my little brother's all grown up!"

"Aw, shut up." Sam punched him in the arm, grinning. "I'm  really  going now."

"Use protection!" Dean called after him, earning a middle finger from Sam as he walked out.

 Cas was smiling at him when he turned back, leaning against the sofa. "What?"

 "Nothing, it's  just  \- you're a good brother, Dean."

 "Well, someone's gotta fill the quota of teasing him about being lovesick."

 "No, I mean that you're kind and thoughtful. You helped him with his damn proposal, and toasted him even when he wasn't there. I -" He caught himself.

 "What?"

"Whoever you end up with, Dean, I hope they'll know how lucky they are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> have a good day/night !


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT DEAD I PROMISE
> 
> dude it has been a WHILE, and the only excuse i have for u guys is that i had extreme writer's block, and exams out the arse.
> 
> BUT, now that it's all out of the way, and my work experience finishes this week, i should have free time to actually get good shit out!
> 
> also i have an idea for a few other fics (one may involve gender-bent, sorority-girl dean) but i'm gonna try and finish this one first
> 
> ANYWAY, hope you enjoy!

Dean was kinda flustered, to say the least.

“Uhm – thanks. Dude. I, uh – you're a pretty great guy yourself.”

Cas cocked his head. “Do you think so?”

“Yeah! I mean, you’ve got the whole ‘tall, dark and handsome’ vibe, plus, y’know, everyone digs the sensitive author –”

“So I’m sensitive?” Cas smirked.

“You know what? Screw you.”

“Technically, we already are.”

Nope. There was a line, and Cas had just crossed it. Dean was _not_ going to think about anything like that, and instead he grabbed his wallet and opened the door. “Come on; can’t keep the family waiting.”

“Of course not.” Cas followed him out of the apartment, and thankfully didn’t mention the screwing comment again.

They decided to walk, it being a pretty mild day, and Dean was treated to the sight of Cas kicking a pile of leaves as they strolled through a park. It was adorable, and Den hurriedly shoved any and all urges right down before they could take over his brain.

_Not now, you gay fuck._

_Isn’t_ Cas _your gay fuck?_

_SHUT UP._

He’d got most of his thoughts under control when Cas looked back at him and smiled, holding out his hand.

Dean was pretty sure he had gone as red as his hoodie. He squeaked a little, making Cas raise his eyebrows, and tentatively took his hand.

_Holy fuck._

_HOLY FUCK._

_Ah, we agree for once._

_I AM HOLDING CAS’ HAND._

It was cool, and calloused. Not something Dean expected at all. “Rough hands, for a writer.”

Cas coughed a little. “Yes, well – I. Worked out.”

Dean felt a smirk growing on his face. “Oh really? Do tell.” When Cas didn’t answer, choosing to stare straight ahead, Dean let his smirk spread. “Weightlifting? Boxing? Rowing?” Cas cleared his throat. “Oh my god you did rowing didn’t you. Holy shit that’s –”

“Fencing.” He said it so quietly Dean almost didn’t catch it.

Almost.

“Stop laughing!”

Dean tried, he really did. But whenever he looked back at Cas, he would break down in giggles again. It took him about five minutes to school his expression into something semi-serious. “Okay, I’m done.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you cross swords with a lot of people, then?”

“ _Dean_!” Cas half-heartedly hit at him, and he laughed as he dodged.

“Okay, okay – FUCK!” He slipped on a leaf and fell, bringing Cas down with him. Once he’d gotten over the shock, he began to giggle, twisting his hands into Cas’ coat as he stared down at him. They were surrounded by leaves, and Cas’ long-ass coat covered them, shutting out the world. If Dean just leaned in –

“Guess you really –”

“Dean if you finish that sentence, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“ _Fell. For. Me._ ” He smiled innocently up at Cas, whose face was contorted somewhere between amusement and rage.

“I hate you.”

“Not according to the tabloids, _Lancelot._ ”

“That’s the only medieval knight you know, isn’t it?”

“….No.”

* * *

“So, Cas.” Jess was leaning over to stare at Cas with a Look. “How do you feel about vegetarian food?”

Cas was in the middle of a bite of his burger. He looked from his food to Jess and back again. After he’d swallowed, he put the bun down and said “I think it’s safe to say I prefer to get my iron from, uh, animals. But,” he added, “I don’t see a problem with vegetarians; I admire the commitment.”

Jess smiled, leaning back in her chair. “Ah, good. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna be a jackass about my cooking. I’m veggie,” she said to Cas’ confused look.

“Ah.” They fell silent for a minute, Cas thoughtfully chewing on his burger. “So, what do you have at Thanksgiving?”

Dean watched Sam’s face light up, and he began to sing the praises of their parents’ cooking, and how Dean’s burgers were _the greatest in the world, even if they’ll give you diabetes in five minutes._ Cas listened intently, looking so serious it was almost adorable. Dean glanced towards Jess, and found she was watching him with a soft smile. He coughed and tore his gaze away, staring at his plate.

“– And the cranberry sauce Mom makes, holy _shit –_ ”

“Alright Sammy, no need to tell us about your fetishes.” Sam spluttered, and Dean grinned. “Just kidding, little brother. It is really good,” he told Cas. “I don’t know how she does it, but nothing has ever beat Mom’s sauce. Nothing.”

“Do you cook, Cas?”

“No, not really. My father was a, um, traditionalist –” Dean scowled a little “– and he mostly left that to the chef we had.”

“You had a _chef_?” Jess’ eyes were nearly hanging out on stalks.

“Yes, an Omega woman. I didn’t see much of her, and my father didn’t really want us near the kitchen. Didn’t stop my brother, though,” he said with a slight grin, “he was her favourite.”

Sam was watching Dean closely. Jess looked as if she was about to say something. Dean was begging for something, _anything_ to interrupt the conversation.

His phone beeped. “’Scuse me,” Dean said, pushing back from the table, heading for the living room. He heard Jess asking about his writing, and breathed a sigh of relief.

_Alright?_

Aaron. He smiled, and typed a reply.

_Good thanks. Talked it out with Cas – you have great advice, dude_

_Glad to hear it :) Grab a drink when you're back in town?_

_Sure thing ;)_

He heard a throat being cleared, and looked up sharply. Sam was stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “Dude, what?”

Sam only cocked an eyebrow.

“Seriously, man, what?”

“You know what, Dean,” he said, almost resignedly. Without another word, he turned back around and went back to the table, leaving Dean to follow, feeling a little like a scolded child.

Cas narrowed his eyes a little, watching Dean sharply, but turned back to answer Jess’ questions. The tiniest bit of guilt wedged itself in Dean’s stomach, and he decided to squash it down with more food.

* * *

“You need to be careful.”

Sam had taken Dean aside after lunch, citing a need to have some ‘brother time’. So far, however, it was just Sam belittling him.

“Dude, come on. It’s just texting.”

“ _Suggestive_ texting. And you read the rules, didn’t you?”

“It’s not like we’re fucking, dude! It’s harmless flirting.”

Sam sighed; a drawn-out, long-suffering sigh. “Harmless if you weren’t famous, maybe. As it stands, if anyone read that, they’d think you guys were having a thing. _Plus,_ if it comes out you're – you,” he said, to Dean’s warning look, “then people are gonna have an even lower opinion of you.”

“Jeez, okay, calm down, will you?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Sammy, come on. I’ll be careful, all right? Besides, we’ve only got –” He checked his phone “eight and a half months left. Oh god.”

How was he gonna juggle a friendship-that-could-turn-to-something-more with Aaron, and his relationship-that-wasn’t-actually-one-but-he-half-wished-it-was with Cas?

By doing what Dean Winchester did best.

Bullshitting it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> have a good day :)


End file.
